Best Friends Forever
by Tokay
Summary: Christmas was never so lonely. StanxKenny. CartmanxKenny. StanxKyle.
1. The Anatomy of Goodbye

Best Friends Forever

**Authors Note: **_I'll say this now, for it'll be very apparent and unsurprising through out the story. All four of the boys are become involved with homosexual relationships but at their tender ages of ten-eleven, they are young and generally don't understand their feelings… And 10-11 is really young to find out that you're gay… XD... If they even are at all… But that's just the oddity of my story. I.e., there will be **quite a bit of slash**. _

_There may also be a prologue in the future, but I just haven't been able to write one. It won't effect the story though, sooooo yeah._

_Enough rambling! Enjoy the story!  
_

* * *

**Chapter One: **The Anatomy of Good-bye

Kyle didn't have a Jewish nose. Or hawk nose as it was probably more commonly referred to as. Instead, it was slender and straight down to the tip and spotted at the bridge with faint freckles.

Such an observation caused Stan to tilt his head in perplexity, and right on the beat, Kyle proceeded to pursue in the exact action in the opposite direction. Stan's eyebrows furrowed in reaction, and then he let his head lean to the same side as Kyle. But just he thought that, Kyle had the same idea in mind. They fell into a pattern, a game almost, and their tilting heads never stayed in line.

There they were, frozen at Stark's Pond by the circular patch of ice that made up the small pond. Nestled between evergreens and sheltered by the Coloradoan mountains just outside of South Park. It had always been a popular spot for the four friends—Stan, Kyle, Cartman, and Kenny—as young children, and so they continued the tradition by stopping by every winter for a skate or a campout.

When their game finally became a banality, they stared at each other with their faces twisting in sheer puzzlement as details they never noticed in each other appeared. It was a vile thought, but it gripped them in with sinewy force so strong, they couldn't help but lean into and bump nose against nose. The confrontation was erroneous, they decided, so they pulled away.

Stan had pondered upon whether or not other kids had unwanted thoughts of locking lips with their best friend as had he had now. Curiosity was teasing and pricking at the tender, soft pink skin that made up his lip, and it trembled in anticipation. He thought that perhaps if he was swift enough, he could leave a ghost of a kiss upon his friend's lips, and maybe he wouldn't even feel it as curiosity would fill at that.

Kyle's freckles became the snow that sprinkled down on South Park and buried them in ice crystals. The single stray curl of the red "jewfro" he persistently hid beneath the green Ushanka he always wore was the fire of temptation burning inside Stan's mind like a shriveling candle wick. Stan leaned in one more time to go in for the kill. Their noses touched once more and without Kyle's protests, he began to lower his lips.

"Oh meh god, you guys are such fags," Cartman's high-pitched squeak crept up on the from behind furtively.

Quicker then flies, Stan broke apart from Kyle and stumbled backwards into the pickling needle pines of a snow-covered evergreen. A mild blush swept across his face, as a reaction to being caught osculating with Kyle.

"Where's Kenny?" Cartman suddenly demanded in a clamor.

Once Stan got himself together, he moved from within the tree's branches out towards Kyle and exchanged questions with him without words. Kyle merely raised an eyebrow as if to shrug without the use of his shoulders, seemingly unaffected by his best friend's attempt. Stan nodded slightly in reply and turned to their overweight, obnoxious "friend" and answered, "We don't know, Cartman."

Everything would have been left uncertain at the moment, and they would have been left to only ponder upon their friend's mysterious recent disappearances. But the perjurement he made burned in his stomach as guilt and so words blurted from Kyle's mouth, "He's probably out using Butters."

Eyebrows raised and confusion built upon their silence until Stan spoke. "Dude, what the fuck are you talking about?" he asked.

"You haven't heard?"

"Apparently not," Cartman stated bluntly with his usual arrogance, but a hint of worry was present in his speech, and their discussion suddenly became serious.

Kyle shifted his weight to his left foot nervously and turned his attention to his feet as he shuffled them slightly in the snow. "It's just what I heard… That Kenny's been 'using' people… I mean, that's just what I heard. I don't know if it's true or not…" he replied in a low voice, still staring at the ground.

Another silence commenced between them. A large gust of wind blew over the frozen pond and swirled through the evergreen's branches, burning the boys' faces as it passed. Cartman clutched his tangerine-colored scarf into a closer loop around his neck.

Out of the silence where he always found his words, Stan uttered, "Christ, Kyle. Kenny's eleven!"

What was horrible about Stan's exclaim was that they all knew he doubted it.

_When did we loose you to the sky and the planets?_

_Are you alone out there,_

_catching shooting stars?_

_Because you know we'd help you find the ground again._

_If you'd only told us how,_

_how to bring you home.  
_

They had all silently agreed to find Kenny. But as they strolled down the pavements spotted with millions of microscopic snowflakes, each made of six symmetric arms and such careful patterns that it was a wonder as to how such beauty came naturally, they knew well that they wouldn't find their friend in the angelic haven of the world that only children believed in. Kenny was growing up too fast. The four wandered down the streets lined with two-story houses and separate garages with an empty space trailing behind them in their missing friend's spot. They wondered how long that space would be vacant.

Out of the gloom and into the sun, Cartman stopped and bent down to gather a heap of snow and round it into a sphere within his yellow-colored gloved palms. A snowball was born on that day at 3:52 p.m. on December eighteenth as a last attempt to replenish the winter spirit. All was lost however when the snowball was pulverized into Kyle's back, slide down his orange polyester jacket, and disbanded into separate flakes without any protest or laughter.

"You guys suck, you know? You never want to do anything anymore. You just want to kiss each other now," he spat. "Fags!" He added with disgust.

Without even turning around to glance behind at Cartman, Kyle responded, "Shut up, fatass! We weren't going to kiss!" His words were filled with honest hate, but without looking his overweight friend in the eye, he did not seem convincing.

Cartman immediately dropped the subject and fell to silence.

Their footprints disappeared into the dusk as darkness fell upon them on at the mere sixteenth hour and a half. Street lights reflecting celadon-colored artificial light led them home from an unsuccessful search in woe and disappointment. As pale lavender clouds rolled into the sky, they wished upon the brightest star in the sky that Kenny would be safe tonight from the demons that thrived in the streets at night.

The boys uttered their good-byes and went their separate ways—Stan to Kyle's house naturally and Cartman down the path to his own nearly empty middle-class home. He watched the boys enter the Broflovski household, greeted by Kyle's mother Shelia with a relieved smile to find that her son returned home before the sun went down entirely. For him, he still had quite a way to continue to traverse—down one middle-class neighborhood, into the shoddier area, across the train tracks by Kenny's house, and finally back into the warming sanctuary of his own social class—till he reached his own house. The walk would be lonely and undesirable, but nonetheless, necessary.

Cartman hiked up an unavoidable small hill in his path, but not without difficulty and heavy breathing. At the acme, he was welcomed by a distant figure planted on the edge of the curb with his head bowed down to the road. As Cartman approached the small creature closer, the street light reflected down upon him and revealed a familiar orange parka with its hood up. Frozen in disbelief, he felt his muscles tense and his chest pound. The feeling was all in the moment and an opportunity lie just paces before him.

He threw on an average face with strong accented diagonal eyebrows and a wicked grin and called out to his friend, "Kenny!"

The tiny figure perked up and turned around to find the origin of the unmistakable voice of Cartman. His hood, usually buttoned up his throat and tied tightly to conceal a portion of his face, was open loose over his messy blond hair. No words slipped past his lips opened just to a finger's width. The skin only trembled.

Finally in front of Kenny beneath the street light, he could see the how unusually ruffled his hair was—bed head—he tried to shake off the thought. His parka was unzipped despite the chill of the snow lightly powered on the ground. As it seemed, he had rushed outside to this stop from… a nap or worse?

"Where the hell have you been?" Cartman interrogated in such a harsh manner that it was clear to tell that it was purely out of concern.

Kenny faltered and flicked his blond bangs out of his eyes without use of his hands, "Just around here…" he looked away quickly and then turned back to face his friend. "Why?"

Right on cue, a soft sprinkling of snow fell from the purple clouds overhead and fluttered to the ground. The world around them became a snow shaker and they were trapped inside. Kenny moved his gaze upwards to the sky, and his hood dropped from his head and revealed his full head of blond hair. Snowflakes fell upon his face and became the freckles he never had.

Cartman kept quiet for a moment, thankful that the unexpected snowfall gave him a chance to think of a decent way to attempt to speak the truth without slipping from his personality, the charade that found he had become. The real Cartman was still alive though, buried beneath hatred and Anti-Semitism and all of the lies that consumed him. When he finally drifted from his musing, he answered in a low whisper, "We just missed you. That's all."

"Yeah?" Kenny didn't trust Cartman's eyes which were prolonged with sadness and a glint of warm-hearted affection, but he liked to believe that his friends really did care about him. Being loved was such a different feeling, and sometimes he didn't know how to respond to it. Sometimes a love towards him was only a mixed signal though, and that ruined his heart. For now though, he tried to love again.

Without another word, the two began down the uneven street towards Kenny's rundown bungalow. As they walked in perfect rhythm, Cartman could have sworn that their hearts would beat at the same time. He felt close to the friend he had always considered lower because of his social status. But, he had never noticed how kind Kenny had always been in the past, despite his friends' lack of noticing this. Although he wasted what little money he owned on pornography, he had still be the sweetest of the group.

A quick glance down at Kenny's lonely left hand, gloved in brown, and even Kenny felt the thud in his heart. He stared at Cartman who only stared back and smiled softly. Just to spite and perhaps even degrade Cartman, he took his right hand in his left and their fingers laced together. He swung both of their hands out far in front of them in time as they walked, just to poke fun of their awkward situation; laughing playfully all the way to his house. Just before his front lawn, he untied their grip and smiled again.

He turned and left to his doorstep where he turned around and added just before disappearing inside, "I'm okay, Cartman!"

Minutes after Kenny had left, Cartman still stood before the McCormick's front yard. His hand twitched with a strange sensation coursing through his veins.

A freight train roared past across the wooden tracks and kicked up his blue coat.

* * *


	2. What's Wrong with South Park?

Best Friends Forever

**Chapter Two: **What's Wrong with South Park?

**Authors Note: ** _Oh gosh! I didn't expect such feedback. I really appreciate it though. Thank you all who have reviewed/and or took interest in my story! You guys really make me happy _  
_**About the age thing**__: Well, I've done a lot of thinking, and I decided that their age was appropriate for this story. This story is really about innocence that only exists before you reach a certain age. Around ten-eleven, for many kids like what happened to me, you start to get a new outlook on life. Also, I'm sure that at least a few of us have had some sort of sexual fantasies (you will see this in the chapter) at that age as well. I know I did, but they weren't really in the way that many of us see it now... _  
_Anyway, this chapter is almost twice as long as the previous one and is basically all about Kenny. It is also darker as well, as suggested by "too lazy to log in" __). But drama won't really be this fic too much until about chapter four. But, let's not get ahead of ourselves. _  
_Also, if you have any questions about what's going on, it'll all be explained in the next chapter where Kenny's own little subpart of the main story is tied together. _  
_Also, I have never performed "cutting", or plan to, or think of, or suggest anyone to. (No it's not in the story, but you'll see.)_  
_Lastly, the second with Italics is indeed a _flashback  
_Enjoy this chapter! – Tokay_

_

* * *

_The radio was playing in the kitchen of Stan Marsh's home.

"… And that was our weather for today. But, now Derek, tell me this. What's wrong with this town? Everywhere I go, there's no cheer, no smiles. It's the holidays, and even more, it's gonna snow—a fresh coat of snow—right on Christmas day. Isn't that just something to smile about? What's wrong with South Park?"

_Large, full pink lips smeared with sparkling pink lip gloss. Her hair was twisted in an even tangle of honey-blonde curls. Bright, unnatural blue eyes were a point of interest for many males—but not him. He was focused on her large "D" cup breasts that were nearly bursting from the miniature silver swim suit she wore. She was not an anorexic model, instead, she had curved hips that showed signs of exercise—not starvation. _

_Kenny licked his lips before turning the page. One more glance at a beautiful model in nearly nothing at all and he couldn't take it anymore. His lips curled into a malevolent smirk as tossed the magazine to the floor. He jumped from his bed onto his feet with eagerness and turned to the small wooden table beside his bed clustered with clothes and trash. He rummaged with the mess like a dog digging into the damp mud for a bone he buried a week ago until he found a small cosmetic mirror. _

_He stared deep into the mirror, and pleased with the reflection, his smirk widened. But, when he noticed an incongruous lock, he spat of his fingers and smoothed down his untidy hair. He didn't like now it looked, though, so he shock his head and skipped out of his room, grabbing his orange parka as did. _

_Outside in the lonely, winter boulevards of the South Park suburbs, Kenny zipped his coat and stormed the streets. He found his way across the tracks and into the town by nightfall and South Park became a place he didn't recognize. The bars were packed and the families were inside. That was when they thrived, though, on the corners in the shadows. Of different ages and sizes, but they never blended in with the crowds. _

_She found him first. Looking past the coat, she could see what he wanted. Looking at his coat, she could tell that he probably didn't have much however. But, he was cute and having no shame, she called to him, "Hey, kid," and that was all she needed to say. _

_Kenny turned around to find a teenage girl, young, fourteen at the most. She was nothing like they girls in the magazine. She was thin, too thin, with no hips and a tiny bust. Her face was distorted with make-up. Too much black eyeliner and mascara, yet she still used to light pinks and blues to soften her appearance. Her lip gloss was still wet from over-applying. It was all too intoxicating at the moment._

_Still, he answered her request without words and the next thing he knew, he was in alleyway behind bags of trash and standing in a puddle of a stranger's piss. The air stank of urine, semen, and trash as she pushed him up against a brick wall. He couldn't think anymore as it didn't feel right. She tugged his pants down to his knees and began work on her own. Finally, he couldn't take it anymore. It wasn't what he thought it would be. He screamed into the empty air, pulled up his pants and ran into the night with tears spilling from his eyes. _

"What do you think about this one, hun?" Liane Cartman stood beside a towering evergreen tree. Each of its pine needles were at the perfect shade of a healthy green. It was full all the way around and had a perfect length top branch for the star that would it would later be decorated with. Even so, it wasn't quite big enough when Cartman saw Stan's family pick out an even larger tree—better, by only slightly.

"It's. Not. Big. ENOUGH!!!" Cartman whined and stomped his feet, crushing the fallen pine needles beneath his heels.

"Ok, hun," his mother answered calmly and preceded to searching through the forty-dollar Christmas trees.

Out of a corn maze of trees, Kyle's small, ten-year-old figure emerged. As a Jew, he of course did not pursue in such traditional Christian activities as selecting evergreen trees to decorate, but he enjoyed tagging along with them to explore their religion.

"When does Hanukkah start this year, Kyle?" Stan asked his red-headed companion with interest.

Kyle smiled at the thought of it. "The fifteenth. At sunset, 'course."

Tired of seeing the two resolve to having their own personal conversations as a result of what he saw at Stark's pond the previous day, Cartman joined in nonchalantly. "What do you actually _do_ on Chun-a-ka?"

"Don't you ask this every year, Cartman?" Stan stated, a bit annoyed with Cartman's obvious motives.  
Kyle ignored Stan and explained, "It's Hanukkah, and it's when we light candles—"

"NO! The calendar says that it's Chun-a-ka!!" Cartman insisted.

"… For each night that the—"

"Yeah, yeah! Forget I asked!" Cartman said as he walked away to join his mother in their tree selection.

Staring right back at Kyle, Stan shrugged in reply to Cartman's random participation in their small-talk. But still young and curious about the world, and filled with the desire for an adventure, he took Kyle's hand and led him through the mazes of trees. They pushed through the prickling green needles, and crawled through the cracks to the other side. Snow fallen from the branches they fondled with landed on their shoulders and was dusted off a small gust of chilly wind. Light that poured from hanging paper lanterns beat down on them and completed the moment.

Absorbed in their fun, their slipped past the branches of another tree and ran right into a lean man in black and navy parka. They apologize nervously, their faces pink in blush, and walked backwards out of trouble shamefully. However, as they backpedal, they made impact with another person. It is Cartman, who is irked by their behavior.

His sharp, arched eye brows were threatening for a slight second, but they horror vanished when they heard his high pitched voice. "Out of my way, fags!" But even after he uttered the word "fag", he thought of Kenny and when they walked home hand-in-hand under the light spray of the snow. His stomach lurched, and so he tried to disregard the thought.

Randy Marsh's voice cut through his thoughts. "Alright boys, are you ready to go? Stan, your mom and I were thinking that you could invite your little friends over for some hot chocolate tonight. It's supposed to go down to negative five tonight!"

Stan turned to his left to Kyle at his side. He smiled and nodded eagerly, his green eyes filled with anticipation. Stan then cocked his head to glance back at where Cartman trailed behind.

"Cartman, do you want some hot chocolate?!" He called.

"Hot chocolate?" Cartman piped. His spirits rose at the thought of the warm, chocolaty liquid down his throat. Perhaps that was the reason as to why he had gained so much weight as a child—to forget his miseries. He wasn't a happy child at all.

"I guess that's a yes. Well, you have to get Kenny then, and we'll meet at my house," Stan declared, and they split.

The stars suddenly glittered in the sky.

Cartman had never agreed to fetch Kenny, but he felt that he was obligated to. He didn't have a choice in the matter. All over, he had mix feeling about it. He hated to think that Kyle and Stan sent _him_ out to get him out of their way, but it was to be alone with Kenny again.

_What? Where did that come from!? _He thought.

Still, Cartman would never admit it, but sometimes Kenny scared him. He was so baffling anymore, and he felt that their relationship as friends was slipping away and crumbling like the dying leaves of autumn. That hurt him, not because of his questionable crush on Kenny, but because he loved his friend. He truly cared for him, the rest of the group too, but Kenny especially. It had always been Stan and Kyle, and that left Kenny and Cartman—even though they never really got along.

Cartman stuffed his hands into his pockets as he felt the familiarity of the situation. It was like déjà vu, and he have expected to find Kenny under the streetlight on the curb once more. But, when he finally trekked the large hill before the streetlight, he found nothing but the memory of Kenny.

Cartman's courage further broke apart when he reached Kenny's house. He suddenly did not want to go through with the plan. Right now, he just wanted to go back home and help his mother decorate their perfect evergreen tree. His throat went dry and he worried that if he knocked, Kenny wouldn't come to the door and he would panic and leave.

But within the depths of woe, there comes relief. And like the rush of a knife against a wrist, there is always a dirty after-feeling. Kenny swept up from behind like a shadow and wrapped his arms around his stout friend's neck in a loose loop.

"Cartman," he greeted through the dust. "Looking for me?"

Feeling feeble in his vulnerable position, he stumbled on his words and fell flat in the end. "No..I was just..Stan wanted to see if you wanted to come over his house.. for you know.."

Kenny laughed upon the end of Cartman's sentence. At first, he thought that Kenny was laughing at his weak form, but then he found his laughter to be playful and not destructive. "No, I don't know," he replied with another giggle.

"Hot chocolate!" Cartman pretended to be mad with the situation, pretended to not care that Kenny was wrapped around him, and pretended that the rhythm in his chest was a false beat, and so he broke free of the younger boy's grasp with force.

With his back sharply turned on Kenny, he couldn't see how the boy recoiled as a reaction to his touch. He was truly hurt.

Another cloud moved across the sky and over the darkness that covered Kenny's face in the night, a twisted smirk manifested itself upon his lips and the moment of feeling was gone. He rebuilt his surface and came over Cartman with malice and anger he aimed towards himself, he planned to take the repulsive creature to the ground and perform revenge. He slinked up to Cartman once more. With grappling hooks for hands, he clamped down on Cartman's shoulders and held his ground by digging his nails into the large boy's jacket. Over the boy's shoulder, Kenny cocked his head and whispered into his right ear with wickedness.

"You know Stan and Kyle really sent you here to get me?" His words breathy, and they fell down Cartman's neck in a cold shiver that caused his to shake slightly in place.

Kenny tightened his grip to a firmer hold and continued, "…They went up into Stan's room, and they…" Kenny's words became quiet and pulled away, loosening his grip along the way.

Cartman never turned. He remained still into the night; silent. It wasn't the words itself that scared him; he knew well that they could've been true and didn't care. It was the words from Kenny. The truth was: it terrified him.

Kenny could have left things as they were. Cartman was afraid enough. But it didn't soothe the pain within and so he took it further. The blonde returned once more behind Cartman and planted a wet kiss on the back of his neck. He lingered as he broke off and licked the area of the kiss to add even more moisture.

The walk to Stan's house was silent.

The four sat on the living room floor of Stan's house in a circle, like knights at the Round Table. With hot chocolate mugs in each of their hands, complete with miniature marshmallows, the four grinned when Kyle mentioned their "BFF" necklaces. Each of them put down their mugs and dug into their shirts to reveal their silver necklaces that they always wore. And out of the moment, the story of the origin of the necklaces was told.

_Sometimes it was the snow that sprinkled evenly onto the ground that the memory of a winter years before recollected in their minds. It was the memory of a vow they planned to keep. And even in their sad slumps they could still taste the snows on their tongues as they stood new-deep in snow on a Christmas night. _

_They were just having fun, being kids, building snowmen and creating snow angels. In their winter snow globe the happy world was trapped forever. And when duty called in the form of their guardians, they disappeared from their places and fell into the slow-mo pace of the world on Christmas night. Down the streets, past houses lit by artificial colored lights and plastic decorations of reindeer and Santa Claus', they ran aimlessly, laughing all the way to the corner stop sign._

_They came across children of South Park in their class, and they ran together. A friendly old man in town passed out candy canes. Swirled in white and red, the peppermint stuck to their tongues and warmed their spirits with each lick._

_But the town became a bore, and so the group ran back down the streets, back to their homes where they'd be safe from harm. Harm, however, was not present that night. Back at Stan's house, they were called inside just in time for warm cherry pie and ice cream._

_They fell into a circle, their circle of friends; the very one they sat at today. And between it all, they revealed another present from beneath the tree. Inside there were two silver hearts and four silver chains. Stan gave half of his heart to Kyle. Cartman gave half of his heart to Kenny._

"_We'll be best friends forever," they all agreed._

_But under a different moon, after time changes you, their necklaces, their tokens of friendship, rust from overuse and things crumble._

The metal still glimmered in the dim evening light, faintly, but there. Cartman held up his half, in the light, and watched the illumination bounce from the source across the silver. When he moved the heart from out of his view, he saw Kenny sitting across from him.

Kenny's eyes were not the same. His blue spheres, once lively and curious, were stained from pornography and the dirty, mature half of the world. They were filled with something the boys didn't understand—passion. Even its origin did not grasp such a powerful feeling; the desire for the ecstasy only containable through obsession. It pained the boy to not know, and it hurt his friends even more to watch their friend dwindle down and make poor choices. To them—Kenny's future was dull and fuzzy.

For Cartman, crushing over his supposed best friend, things were difficult. He tried to go on thinking that it would only be a phase, a result of his own confusion. It would pass when things became a little a clearer. But for now, things were twisting and his mind was a puzzle of thoughts. He could figure it all out.

To further bring the overweight boy into hysteria, Kenny stared across the room at him with his eyebrows rising in a suggestive manner. He smiled devilishly, and mouthed evocative statements. But Cartman couldn't understand them and still hung-over the wet kiss, he looked away blushing. He tried to ignore Kenny's staring and opened his ears to Kyle and Stan's conversation beside him.

"Have you have had a time when you're at some event so something where your best friend was supposed to be too, but they never showed up? The whole time the even goes on, and you drift about, just waiting for that moment when your best friend would make some great, amazing, grand entrance, and they immediately greet and join you before anyone else. But, at the end of the event, they never come, and then you just kick up the dirt," Stan said to Kyle. He had always been sensitive. "Has that ever happened to you Kyle?"

Kyle looked away, thinking deeply. "Yeah."

After a while, the clock struck ten and Stan's parents decided that it was best if the boys went home. Slowly, one-by-one they did leave. But outside of the Marsh's house, Cartman waited for Kenny. He couldn't anymore. His mind screamed, but his heart screamed louder.

Kenny exited the house with class and pride. But his demon smirk faded once he came into contact with the red-faced Cartman. "Cartman," he asked innocent.

Between gritted teeth Cartman growled, "Don't even!"

Kenny had not expected the reaction he received on Cartman's part. He had only wanted to make himself feel better, but he had twisted with his friend's emotions to the point that he wouldn't take it anyone. It was no longer a game.

"You god damn, son of a bitch…" he blubbered as his eyes began to water. "I hate you, Kenny McCormick!"

Kenny melted. He felt pathetic and low. And just like when he crawled away to safety from the alley, he felt dirty. His skin itched as he bit down on his tongue till it bled.

Cartman's form collapsed and broke into a stuttering sob. He had never been a strong boy, but to watch his best friend burst into tears—the one who always had insults for everyone—was too much.

"_We'll be best friends forever."_

Kenny ran and didn't stop until he reached his bedroom.


	3. Kwetsbaar

Best Friends Forever

**Chapter Three**: _Kwetsbaar_

* * *

**Author's note**: _I apologize greatly for the large delay of this chapter. Plus, it's really quite short and doesn't make up for it. Just a lot has been going on.. but anyway, this is another beta chapter that I may update and since I've been too lazy to edit and revive this chapter.. but I wanted to give you something to read.. Ah, just enjoy! Oh, and Happy Thanksgiving, and Happy Fourteen Birthday to me :) – 11-22-06_

_P.S: _Kwetsbaar_ means vulnerabl__e in dutch. _

* * *

**H**e couldn't sleep. From his bed, Kenny stared at the ceiling for what felt like eternity. Past the thin walls that surrounded his room, vibrations were created from the bickering of his drunken father and screeching, red-headed mother. Their voices thumped at the walls, and he tried to ignore it by throwing the single blanket on his bed over his head, but he couldn't block it out.

The thought of Cartman's tears ate at his mind to further irk him. He remembered when he linked hands with the overweight boy a few days in the past, and even though it was only to tease him, it had felt surprisingly…well. Once he started to believe that such a good-feeling was not created from vengeance upon the obnoxious Cartman, he burst into a fit of rage. He retrieved his parka from his closet, slipped into it over his pajamas, and grabbed his little brown teddy bear from his bed just before slithering through the window in his room and fell into the snow on his toes.

He was free now, but his mind only roamed. Where could he even go? Without thinking, he made a left turn towards Stan's house.

* * *

**S**tan. He never really gave anyone a problem. All in all, he swore the least, and by Kenny's own standards, he was the most normal of the four. Not too mention the most athletic. As his thoughts moved from topic to topic, Kenny wondered why he had put so much contemplation upon the raven-haired boy. He nervously flicked his hair from his eyes and attempted to erase the puzzlement from his mind.

_Rick_, _click_. _Rick_, _click_. Tiny pebbles patted against the sturdy, glass window in Stan's room as Kenny tossed them into the air. Shuffling his feet to keep warm, he mumbled, "Come on, Stan… Get up…!" Between throws he blew into his naked hands and hoped that his thoughts were loud enough to rustle Stan from his sleep and come to his aid. _ Rick_,_ click_. _Rick_, _click_.

With no reply from his unpretentious friend, Kenny's surface crumbled as he whimpered a call of defeat. He knew well that no stone was large enough to awake Stan into his lonely, little world distorted forever by his thoughtless mistakes. Into the voids of night, he tried to turn away, but there was no one to go. His house was not a home.

In desperation, he threw a final rock at the window. A pitiful throw, the pebble barely touched the glass before it fell faster and faster to ground. He turned to the window at stared up at it in home of arisen appearance of Stan on the other side of glass. Kenny found nothing however, but a cold shoulder and a sleepless night.

But out of the gloom, the sleeping dragon of hope awoke to fight Kenny's demons. Stan finally rustled from his sheets and came to the window. His eyebrows furrowed at the appearance of the orange parka, but in his semi-conscious state, he could comprehend little more.

He came to the door and opened it with tired, inflamed eyes and messy raven blades of hair. "Kenny… What's wrong?"

Stan brought the dwindling creature into his house quietly without further questioning. Once the door clicked to a close and the black-haired boy redid the lock for security, Kenny immediately felt a rush of warmth from the corner heater take over his colorless skin. Such luxury was never present in his own home.

Stan led Kenny, shriving through his coat, across an unlit passageway through the living and dinning room into the kitchen and flicked out the light, enticing answers from boy. Kenny fell like the flaking white snow and flat out admitted that he had a problem.

Not knowing how to initially how to tend to his friend, Stan poured Kenny a glass of water like a bar tender relieving a troubled man who never amounted to anything. Kenny took long, slow gulps as he shifted his weight from each leg nervously. There was no avoiding the conversation now though.

* * *

**K**enny sat on the opposite side of the kitchen table as Stan with only his empty glass between them. Blue eyes stared into blue eyes from either end. The blond's glance upon Stan's eyes drifted to his lips pressed together firmly, as if to forbid himself from speaking. When Stan felt Kenny's concentration break, he took the opportunity to break into the boy's cracked surface.

"Kenny… What happened?"

Kenny's glance shifted about from Stan's eyes to the table and back. Slowly, but unevenly. He knew not where to start and which topics maybe _shouldn't_ be addressed, so he chose one he knew Stan could help him with. "Cartman must hate me now," he moaned.

"What? Cartman hates everyone, Kenny. No-Actually, he just pretends to, ya know? He really cares truthfully…"

"I made him cry."

"Cartman cries all the time."

Kenny moaned again, hinting a small amount of exasperation.

"Why then?" Stan tried.

The blonde drew his elbows to the table and rested his head upon his open palms. He looked away shamefully, the truth of the story hot on his tongue. "I… tricked him."

His personality distorted by the tiredness that occurred his body, he almost laughed imagining a helpless Cartman beneath the shying Kenny. But he caught himself, realizing that such was not the situation. Kenny was serious. His glossy orbs proved it.

"What did you do?" He pressed on.

Kenny groaned a final time, and Stan decided that he shouldn't go there because he didn't want to talk about it. Stan forced an assuring small smile and said, "He'll get over soon enough. Before Christmas." But when Kenny didn't reply in any form, he added, "This isn't really the problem is it?"

"No," he groaned.

The conversation suddenly died.

An abrupt shiver crept on Kenny and caused him to shake.

"You can stay the night if you want. My room would be best."

* * *

**S**tan's room became something that night that Kenny never knew was coming. And as he stood at the doorway, he felt the weight of reality of it come crashing down upon him. He entered the room with no regrets for whatever should happen, was only as it should've been.

His room was the ideal of the childhood he ruined. There was nothing out of place featured—just a wooden double bed with a thick navy blue comforter, a desk for studying complete with a flat-panel monitor and computer, a dresser, and little more. The floor beneath his feet was mostly clear except for an occasional litter of unclean clothes from a previous day's use. Thinking of the pornography beneath his own bed at home, Kenny frowned grimly and watched Stan plan himself tiredly atop his bed.

"Will you tell me now, what happened?" he asked Kenny with moderate interest.

Kenny sighed dramatically and collapsed into a chair by the desk. "Everything. Home… And just everything," he complained.

"Well, did something in particular happen?" Stan yawned accidentally, only out of the fact that he was indeed sleepy.

Kenny whimpered loudly and sank in his seat. "I don't know…"

Stan's eyebrows rose greatly as he motioned to his parents' bedroom, just beyond the right wall. And when they became real silent, they could almost hear the rustling in the sheets in the room over…

"Kenny! You gotta be quiet," he whispered at the top of his lungs. "Listen, we can talk tomorrow… You can sleep on the floor if you want… or whatever..." Stan suggested artlessly.

"Actually," Kenny began, his voice low. "…Could I… sleep in your…bed?" He questioned with shear innocence.

"If you want to, yeah. I can sleep on the floor."

"No…" Kenny rose to his feet slowly and slinked towards Stan's bed. "You don't have to go…"

Stan froze in place and spoke not a single word. His lips were parted slightly, open as if to speak. Even in the dark, his blue eyes glistened against the shallow shadows creeping along his wall. Outside, the moon peaked from behind the clouds for just that moment, and shined into Stan's window. He thought about it, and the rumors, but most of all the memories. What's the harm in it?

The ice sculpture unfroze and only the glitter remained. "…Okay..."

Stan settled between his sheets as he normally did by routine. Once his head rested freely upon his pillow, he felt his heart rate increase. He closed his eyes and pretended that this maybe was not happening. But when Kenny crawled into the empty space around him, he found reality harder and harder to grasp. Their bodies so close, they seemed to form one being. Such an intimate position was only a false portrayal of the close friendship that never existed between the two.

Fear escaped Stan when the boy beside him closed his eyes and began to breathe rhythmically out of his reddening nose. It was a relief to see that Kenny himself seemed shy to situation. Then it hit Stan, the perfect opportunity to ask him what he wanted to know.

"Kenny," he whispered into the blonde's ear. "Did you… use Butters?"

With Kenny's heart next to his, he could only expect the truth. What was the use of lying anymore at this point anyway?

He replied in an equally quiet voice, "No."

It was long before they fell asleep, under the rays of moonlight.


	4. Every Winter it Snows

Best Friends Forever

**Chapter Four: **Every Winter it Snows

* * *

**Author's Note**: _Oh, my goodness, I'm so sorry for the lack of an update guys! This chapter took way too long for me to release to you. You see, I'm just loosing interest in South Park, and so the story has becoming less and less interesting to write… But with only one chapter remaining, I'm gonna finish it! I think that this may be the only South Park piece I'll write on for a while, so I hope you enjoy this if you like my work. Well, anyway, it's off to bed I go. Enjoy this chapter lovelies and thank you all my wonderful reviews. You are biggest inspiration. – Tokay_

_P.S: Note the different styles I tried throughout the chapter. And notice the style at the end of the chapter. :)  
_

* * *

**I**t hadn't felt right.

Morning came from plain, wispy white curtains: The sun rose from behind pink and orange clouds and reflected across the unadorned walls of Stan's room. He awoke to the melody of the birds outside his window, and sat up in his place to stretch as he always had. It was Saturday and he imagined that Kyle was praying at the local synagogue. Even more, he imagined the look on his face as he did so. A mix of boredom and lethargy. A smile crept on Stan's lips.

But his state of happiness ended when his smile faded because he remembered the sleeping body beside him. The sheets beneath him suddenly felt unclean and all over, he felt dirty. He fell into a brief phase of panic. He scratched up and down his arms until the skin turned red and raw. It didn't feel right.

Stan wanted Kenny out. Fast.

Finally, he scrambled from his place swiftly but with careful accuracy to prevent Kenny from waking. He quickly withdrew a clean pair of clothes from his drawers and tiptoed to the bathroom to change out of the fear that Kenny would stir when he was party-clothed. When Stan returned, he found Kenny yawning loudly with his legs swung to the side of the bed and his feet on the floor. He looked up and his glance pierced right into Stan.

An enormous grin spread across his face. "Good morning!"

Stan just nodded in reply and his insides curdled. "Kenny… You gotta go!" He blurted rudely.

"Okay! Dude, what's your problem, suddenly?" Kenny grinned slightly, only because he became uncomfortably nervous. "You were okay with it last night."

"Awww… man. What the f…" Stan couldn't take it anymore. He realized right then and there that Kenny's innocent act was only a lie. The boy was only as horrible as they claimed he was. He couldn't deal with this newly-found information right now. "Just get the fuck out!"

Kenny darted down the stairwell and sped even faster when he heard Stan's footsteps behind him. He forcefully backed the blond towards the door and pinned him in place.

"Wait—Can't we talk? You said that we could talk when I was ready!"

"Not now, Kenny!" And then he threw Kenny out, onto the pure layer of white snow. Into the cold, and out of his mind.

Stan then found himself face-to-face with his mother.

"Stan, I didn't know that you were having a sleepover last night," she said.

"Yeah, but everyone pretty much just left a while ago…" Stan managed in response, trying his best to disguise the angry that lie inside him.

* * *

**T**hey were at Stark's Pond, again.

Kyle and Stan lay across from each other at the center of the pond. With the top of their skulls touching lightly against one another, they had an amazing view of the clouds gathering over their heads. The grey and white blended together like a blot of watercolors, and soon the sun was engulfed the bleakness of the sky. Light couldn't penetrate past the thick condensed ice crystals.

It was some kind of reminiscence of "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind", their form that was. They silently agreed on that. Frozen on the surface, they felt only the warmth of their own beating hearts thumping in simultaneous rhythm.

What once would have made Stan's heart flutter and his mind draw a blank, now gave no reaction. Stan felt nothing. He found out that what he had once thought would have been pleasant, really felt unclean and was only as vulgar as it was made out to be.

Kyle didn't understand this at first. He crawled back to Stan, desiring to complete their unresolved beginning of a relationship. But when Stan withdrew from the redhead, he felt rejected and whimpered. "Stan…" He moaned.

"I.." he began, shaking his head, confused. "I don't want… it…" His shoulders trembled and felt the cold as it swept across his bare face. Rosy cheeks became the color on his face. But still—he felt nothing.

Kyle whimpered again and recoiled. He thought for a moment and then tried again. From behind, he reached out and grabbed Stan by the shoulder in an attempt to pull him close and hug him. He froze however, we he felt the raven-haired boy grow stiff.

A strange sensation coursed through Stan's bloodstream. The touch felt familiar, had it happened just days before? Then it struck him.

"_Screw you guys, I'm going home!"_

Cartman.

It had happened to Cartman just days before.

But then it got worse. Kenny. The blond who hid behind his orange parka and was bestowed with poverty. The one who was always there, but somewhere in the background. Almost forgotten.

Stan tried to piece the unusual, striking feeling as it took his mind. He came to the conclusion that Kenny had tried to seduce Cartman—but in a much more flamboyant endeavor and Kyle and him never knew how he was struggling against his friend.

He groaned as the vision and feeling became more and more and it trailed to his stomach where he felt a piercing pain. "Back off, Kyle," he managed.

He backed away just as Stan requested. "Oh, Christ, Stan! I'm sorry! Are you fucking okay?"

Stan's throat went dry and he suddenly started to cough, which lead to the choking of his salvia. Kyle panicked, but he knew not of what he should do. He could only watch as his best friend fell on his fours, and coughed till it hurt.

Then it stopped. Just randomly, with no warning or notice. Why? Why did it happen? It didn't make any bit of sense.

"I don't get it…" Stan said as he pulled himself together and brought himself back to his toes.

Kyle, terrified, ran to Stan with open arms. He embraced him for just a few seconds and Stan didn't resist, so he felt alright with continuing. "What the hell was that? Are you okay??" He then tilted his head and leaned in for the kill. His lips, soft and moisturized, met the chilled skin of Stan's neck, but he was broken off once again by a familiar voice.

"You guys truly are fags, huh?"

It was Cartman, and with the sound of his voice, the two straightened up and broke apart.

"Why do I always find you guys lockin' lips?" He spat, disgusted. "Where _IS_ Kenny?"

"What?" Kyle asked.

What was this? Had this not been just a few days ago, before the mess, before the problems?

Life was funny like that. How life could just be one gigantic replay of the one awful mistake you made. And somewhere at the end, it came up again, you get to chose whether to make that same mistake or change it if you ever learned something throughout life. Sometimes, you even made it worse.

"Where is that little…" Cartman then began to shake. He was pained by the thought of him. "…that little…BASTARD!!!" He then burst out so loud that Kyle and Stan expected him to break down into tears.

But then, he must've cried up every last tear, for nothing came at the moment except for the twitch at his eye. It burned with frustration and betrayal, but there was nothing left to show.

"This is pretty fucked up," Kyle bluntly stated.

And wasn't he right?

The three of them stood there at Stark's Pond, frozen in time for their hearts were broken by their mostly harmless friend—Kenny. They forgot everything.

What were they gonna do?

What were they gonna do?

What were they gonna do?

What were they gonna do?

What were they gonna do?

Stan broke the eerie silence with a statement so out of place, that it was haunting. His words became hallow and all eyes fell upon him. "You know when you said that you heard that Kenny was using Butters? Well, that's not true, because when he came over to my house last night, he told me directly that he didn't."

They stared at him, their mouths agape.

Kyle spoke up first, "What?!" he said. "Why was... **_KENNY_**... at your **_HOUSE_** last night, **STAN**?"

It was only then that Stan realized his slip-up. "Wait guys! Let me explain. See…" He asked miserably.

"What's there to tell, Stan? I bet he was in your room, too!" Kyle interjected.

_In my bed, _Stan had shamefully thought. _With me_.

Cartman, on the other hand, just shook his head in disbelief. He had not been the only one to fall to the blond's spell. And as horrible as it was, he almost felt jealous that he chose his other friends, too, and not just him.

He searched for the words, buried beneath his thoughts. "I… Don't think that I can hang out with you guys anymore…You're all _FAGS_…!"

And before he even left, they lost him. He swore that he'd never return—or at least not for a long, long time.

He didn't lie either. He never came back.

_I don't get it,_

_You just up and go._

_You didn't get it,_

_So now you're leaving._

_What's there to know?_

_You didn't miss the beat._

_You were there right on time._

_But you said that's not enough._

_So then, go ahead and go_

_It's still your invalid crime._

_Please, please promise me this:_

_Our friendship's worth more then some kiss._

_You said you'll go,_

_But did you know that every winter it snows?_

_We just hope that it'll be us that you miss._

* * *

_ **W**here do you stand? Where do you lie? Is there a roof over your head? Or are you just begging to die? _

Kyle left Stan shortly after Cartman's departure from the group. He swore that he would however return, after the problem was solved, and his mind was clear. For now, however, he frowned down upon Stan. His emerald eyes became narrowed, his scarlet eyebrows sunk, and his lips formed into a pout.

"Aren't you going to say something? Beg me to stay? Anything?" Kyle asked angrily.

Stan's expression softened at Kyle's words. He clearly didn't want to leave Stan right now, let alone be gone forever, and the thought of it gave the older boy hope.

He stopped his musing and sighed heavily. "No."

"Fine," Kyle said as he turned away from Stan. "Whatever. Bye! Hope you and Kenny get together. I'm sure that that's what you want."

Then he was gone.

Stan turned to sky once more. As the grey clouds pushed through the sky, even more clouds, whiter and thicker, replaced them. The weatherman was right, it really would probably snow on Christmas Day—or better—when the clock struck eleven on Christmas Eve. During the night, the town would be powered in the weightless, frozen substance. And it would bright with it crystallized icicles and little snow angels made from the innocent children themselves.

For now however, there was nothing for Stan to do but sit and wait.

* * *

**W**here to?

Where was he supposed to go now?

Kenny kicked a meager pile of collected snow in frustration. Despite everything he learned from each of mistakes, he seemed to still fall into the same hole. Every time. He was lured into his own selfishness and his power he had with his friends' trust. It was all he could think of doing. Even now, when he felt that his friendships with them were breaking apart.

They were splitting at the ends, like Kyle's untrimmed curls. He was green with envy of them—like the redheads eyes.

He slipped again.

When Kyle appeared before him, though, with his face burning with angry and jealousy, the thought was postponed and his look became that of confusion.

"Kenny. Kenny McCormick," His face tensed and lines scattered over his face. He was obviously displeased with the blond, and wanted him to clearly know that. "You fucking bastard!!!"

Kyle then pounced upon Kenny, and sent him to the ground with all of his force. Falling to the ground on his stomach, Kenny became vulnerable to the redhead's assaults. He straddled himself on top of the older boy's mid-back, unveiled his untidy blond hair from behind his hood, grabbed the locks with one hand, and shoved the boy's head into the thin layer of snow.

The rush of the cold temperature of the snow created a burning commotion upon his flesh, and his face flushed to a shameful shade of pink. With further dunks, he swallowed flakes of snow and coughed up what he could. But the dry taste remained in his mouth among other things. He closed his eyes.

When he finally thought that it could've possibly stopped, he reopened his eyes and Kyle got up to his feet. Kenny had took that as he chance to crawl back to where nature put him, but the moment he stood on all fours, Kyke's foot met his back. The blond fell to the ground with a groan in pain.

"I hope you're happy, you bastard. 'Cause Stan obviously thinks that you're fucking better then me!" Kyle blurted.

"Kyle… Listen… I came over his house to—"

"Save it! I don't want to hear your stupid voice!"

He let Kenny stand before sending him back into the snow, this time on his backside. And he pummeled him with all that he had. The younger truly wasn't as strong as he felt, but the punches and kicks felt all too real. The precious flesh on his face was bruised and scratched and hurt and hurt and hurt.

Kenny never fought back. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he believed that he deserved every punch and bruise. And so, he let Kyle vent his anger. Maybe he would feel better.

Once more, he struggled to stand, but Kyle repeatedly pinned him down. He grabbed the boy's left arm and twisted it around as far as he could. But, with his free arm, Kenny grabbed the redhead's wrist, and prevented him from any more coils.

With Kenny's touch, Kyle's frustration turned to desperation. As his eyes watered up, he gave his final fight, pulverizing the defenseless boy beneath him. His punches and kicks became weak, and his structure failed. He fell to his knees beside Kenny, with sadness streaming down his pink freckled cheeks.

His hands in loose fists, he pounded the blonde's back lightly, and cried; "I hate you, Kenny McCormick."

* * *

**L**ife remained as the repeat of things of the past. Kenny sat on the street curb once more, hood up, he stared down at whatever was behind him. Old, chewed up blue gum, cigarette butts, scraps of paper. It was nothing he wanted to see. Ashamed of bruises but also displayed them as a sign of his mistakes, he didn't want to see the clouded sky. It would only make him feel worse.

Stan found him and found a place beside him. "Kenny! What happened?"

Kenny looked away from his friend. "Kyle," he mumbled.

"Wait, let me get this straight: Kyle beat you up?"

"Was I supposed to fight back?"

Stan squirmed in his place nervously, so he changed his sitting position.

"I'm sorry I, you know, this morning and all," he said.

"Yeah…"

"This was my fault that you—"

"It was _my_ fault, Stan," Kenny interjected. "I fucked us up."

Stan began to shift again.

"Kenny, why did you do it? What's wrong?!"

He was more concerned than Kenny could have ever thought he would be. Even after he used the raven-haired boy to get what he wanted, he still returned to search for the problem in the younger boy. Kenny couldn't understand why he would do this. But then again, he was the most sensible of the four.

"I… don't know…" He lied.

"Well, if you ever what to, you know, talk, we can always just meet or whatever. Okay?"

"Yeah..." he paused for a moment. "Thanks, Stan."

* * *

"**I**'m sorry, Stan, for everything…"

"I know," he replied to the redhead he sat beside him on the curb where Kenny had in various times come to think. There between them, his body and ruined mind lie at the heart of the emotion that tore the friends apart. And it wasn't pretty or sugar-coated. It was raw and real and unending. Kenny was lost.

Kyle was still full of hope, though. Both Kenny and Stan had admired that. He avoided the situation up until now, not wishing to get involved. If he hadn't have created the vicious conflict between him and Kenny, Stan would have easily declared him the one thing that was right. The one innocent child of the four boys who learned about sex in third grade and cursed for longer than they could remember.

He said, "We can still be friends?"

"'Course."

His buoyant smile was more than adorable, Stan decided.

But then his smile faded. "What's wrong with Kenny?"

"I don't know, we won't tell me."

"Do you think that he's okay?"

"I hope so, dude."

"Yeah."

Beat.

A sigh.

"What happened, Stan? At your house last night?"

"When Kenny came over?"

"Yeah."

"Nothing really," he admitted. "We just talked… and then he wanted to… sleep in my bed… with me…."

"And…?"

"That was it."

"Oh…" he stopped and thought for a second. "And he didn't…"

"NO!"

"Then it was just me then…" Kyle decided grimly.

"No. There's just something wrong with Kenny."


	5. Whatever you Want

Best Friends Forever

**Chapter Five: **Whatever you Want

**Author's Note**: _Well, guys, this is it. This ending was really not what I had originally planned but I think that this much better. I hope it makes you all hear- warmed! _

_Also, I hope you enjoyed this story as I am currently quite proud of it. It has been fun while it lasted._

_Anyways, enjoy this ending and have an amazing holiday and take care. – Tokay_

* * *

An empty world with one bright day. That was what it was.

Hues of blue, leafless skeletons of trees and most of all—white, glittering snow, gathering in the sunlight. Tiny little shadows, reflecting off the walls. Lively sidewalks were the last thing they would expect this year. But it was just the snow, the snow, the snow. It sprinkled the ground with renewal.

A start was truly what needed, too. They had been covering the same ground all year, not knowing what lie beneath it. Sometimes that year, they broke the barrier, and they found life to ugly, harsh, and unforgiving. But, they still floated on the surface like the clouds that were just waiting to be lost forever in space. It was a little less lonely out there.

Stan walked down an empty sidewalk with his thoughts dragging him behind like chains and restrictions, but all he could see was white. Children playing in the front lawns with round snow spheres tossed one "accidentally" onto his jacket, but he ignored it as well as their trailing laughter. He just wanted to find Kyle.

And at the end of the street, standing at the corner, he found him. He caught a glimpse of red curls before the Jew replaced on his lime green ushanka.

He saw Stan gape at him and couldn't help but smile. "Stan!" He called over to him and motioned with his gloved hand for the raven-haired boy to join him.

Stan hesitated, unsure of feelings. It had only been a few days ago that a fight had ensued between the four friends, but now it didn't seem to matter. He took it in.

"Merry Christmas!" Kyle said with a toothy grin. "Did you get what you wanted?"

"Uh.. Yeah... Yeah, yeah. I did." He paused for a moment and spat out what he thought he should have said. "And you?"

Kyle laughed and rounded a clump of snow he gathered into a ball-like shape. He tossed it playfully at Stan and said, "Stan! Hanukkah's over!"

Stan joined into the laughter, nervously at first, but he soon found him voice again. "I forgot that, you know, you're Jewish."

Kyle took him suddenly, holding onto his jacket and pulling him with a light tug. "Come on, I want to show you something."

And then, they went running down the streets. Past the clusters of carolers at the center of town, past Chef singing to just another attractive women passing through South Park, past men dressed in red and white begging for donations, and past the candy cane decorations all the way to Stark's Pond.

The sun was setting away in the distance. It was only four-thirty, but that was late enough of the town to light the city in plastic vanilla lights and kaleidoscopic metallic ornaments. From the frozen over pond, it was just a speck of color into the darkening sky. But when the boys would later traversal down the streets on their way home for Christmas dinner, they would see the shapes and sights of a holiday so amazing that people just lost their angry and frustration to celebrate it.

Stan stared at it, but it didn't seem to be anything to him at first. "What is it, Kyle?"

And then a tap on the shoulder, an unfamiliar hand. He spun around to see who it was. Staring back at him was blue eyes. A crooked smile, but not a smirk. He was happy.

Kenny…

Behind him, with his body noticeably larger then the blond, was Cartman. With a handful of cookies, he seemed to just like he always way, before their fight. But when he began to pass out the cookies among the rest of the boys, he became something they had learned to tolerate, appreciate, and love. Even his usual taunting towards Kenny and Kyle wouldn't sour them now.

He never did though anyway. Maybe a brag here or there about what presents he found beneath his Christmas tree here, but it was harmless and ignorable.

Stan couldn't make sense of it. After everything said and done.. How could Cartman, Kenny, Kyle, and himself all be together now? He started to question it, and he started to believe that what he was seeing and feeling wasn't real.

Over the town, the sky became shades of marmalade and pink blended together to form a vibrant hue of salmon. Altocumulus clouds rolled in and soon a mackerel sky hung over their heads.

The four boys sat around a burning fire that was created with the nearby lumber. On two logs, Stan sat beside Kyle, and Kenny sat beside Cartman. The larger boy had made a joke that only the blond could hear. He laughed and his grin became all that Stan and Kyle could see from across the fire. Without anymore, the two disappeared into the forest hand-in-hand with Cartman muttering, "Do you know how gay this looks?"

Kyle and Stan were alone.

"I guess everything's apparently okay now, huh?" Stan asked.

Kyle just grinned and turned his head around as if to see what lie behind him.

When he turned back, Stan had more to ask, "And I'm not dreaming this all?"

"What? No!" And then they fell to silence. They tried to stare at each other, but they only broke away laughing nervously. But Stan knew now that this chance might never return, so he straightened up and leaned in.

**K**enny and Cartman ran through the corn maze of evergreens into a pale, dark light. Here, no one would see them and no one could reach them. They were safe here. The thought was comforting, and so they soon found that they were happy here—together.

The duo stopped running and fell into the snow beneath a full evergreen. They sat cross-legged under the shelter of its branches. Little pine needles pricked at their backs, but only felt the warmth of their bodies pressed lightly beside each other. And into the night, Kenny's head found a place on Cartman's shoulder.

He fell asleep there. Because he was safe, and because—most of all—he had found a place.

**T**hey kissed. Strange at first, Stan almost wanted to just pull back. But he settled into it. Some things need adjustment to get used to them.

For once, it felt right.

"Merry Christmas."

* * *

**B**lack. Grey. White.

Reality.

A cold slap across the face.

The truth was it would never feel right. Friendship would never be that easy. And most of all: Kyle would never adore him again.

If he were to name the one right thing in life, he would say the weatherman. For just as expected, snowflakes dusted the ground. And it was more then just a sprinkling of white—it fell in inches and added up within an hour.

The streets were empty and the world was dull. The children weren't playing, and Chef wasn't singing. In a little world of more hate than love, people were only failing and everywhere they were just preying for better times when money didn't matter and love was real.

Because, they found out that it wasn't.

Kyle wasn't waiting at the corner for him. Stan sat there and waited, but the redhead never showed. No one came at all.

Gathering the gloom at Stark's Pond, he covered the entire ground before he decided that no one was waiting there for him.

"We'll be best friends forever."

Stan dug into his shirt to find the silver chain, a broken heart, a missing link. So then he though; what would change that?

**K**enny walked along the edge of the tide. With the ocean on one side and sand on the other, he was balancing on a tightrope. He wasn't afraid of falling. Ocean waves of orange and skies of red, he had fallen into seclusion.

It was only true that it would have taken a force to pull out of the dream and into veracity. But at this point, he had decided that there _wouldn't _be such a worthy matter to awake him. It became more of a game with that in mind. If his friends cared, they'd come back for him.

So just like Stan, he waited as patiently as he could. _They'll come_, he whispered aloud.

_Who was he fooling? They wouldn't. He had been the center of their problem and so they would surely do well without him. Better even. _

His thoughts only hurt. A glimpse once at the sky and then he sent his hands into his coat for the "BFF" necklace.

Cartman…

The only people he used were his friends.

**K**yle never found much joy in Christmas. Too often, people mistook him as a Christian who was celebrating the holiday. At first, he just angrily corrected them. But after time, he stopped and lied that he was. Maybe Cartman would be a little less pissed if he was.

He walked down the streets in search of Stan. He tried to be enriched in the scents of Christmas and the merry spirit it seemed to bring, but he felt that his happy was only wasted if there was no one to share it with.

**S**tan toddled home sadly from his failure with only the small thought of the joy that his family would perhaps bring. But all he really wanted was his friends.

**S**tan and Kyle met across opposite sides of the sidewalk. But between them lie the tiny figure wrapped into an orange parka shivering from an unknown cold breeze that wasn't present that night. And before the redhead and jet black-haired boy could reunite and welcome each other's companionship, they found that there was one thing that needed correction first.

They joined Kenny on the curb on either sides of him. From behind the blond's back, Kyle and Stan's hand entwined. Their free hands came to Kenny's shoulders and so they asked something they never had cared enough to know until now.

"Kenny, what do you want for Christmas?"

The blond froze at first. Unsure of the situation. They had indeed come for him, and he never knew that they really cared. And so, he broke down and told them the truth down to the last letter.

"Cartman!"


End file.
